


the red room

by Super_Danvers



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Captain Maggie Sawyer, Established Sanvers, F/F, Jaime Danvers, Would You Rather, detective drama, director danvers, loosely based off the saw and would you rather films, maggie sawyer - Freeform, married sanvers, officer pickles, sanvers kidnap
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-25
Updated: 2019-09-07
Packaged: 2020-09-26 18:40:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20394343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Super_Danvers/pseuds/Super_Danvers
Summary: After Maggie and Alex find themselves strapped to chairs next to complete strangers and their daughter missing, they know they're in trouble.





	1. The Red Room

The room was red.

A dark, royal red that resembled the roses you saw in refined moving pictures. It was rectangular, two shorts sides with glass doors on each and two long sides with three ceiling-height windows on one stretch and an empty fireplace on the other. The mantelpiece above this fireplace was marble, and decorated with plain candles sat in black holders and plants of such rarity that they couldn’t be found in a simple guide book.

The windows, each about twelve-foot-high, were flanked by heavy drapes that were the colour of ripened plums. Nothing could be seen beyond the glass panes, not even the outline of the trees against the night sky. It made the room quite dim, only lit by the candles on the mantlepiece and a glass chandelier that hung in the centre of the room. It hung still, in fact the only thing to indicate the room wasn’t a mausoleum was the flicker of the candle flames.

That, and the people sat at the table.

The table itself was much like its inhabitants, void of caring and content. Gleaming, mahogany wood that reflected the flames off its face and shone in the window panes. On one side of the table sat three people. Two men, and one woman. The men, one young and one almost elderly, couldn’t have looked more different. All of them were bound to the backs of their chairs.

The young man had jet black hair and dark skin that brought out his icy, grey eyes that flitted around the room as if waiting for anything or anyone to move. He was dressed in a dark brown suit, the same colour as worn leather, that was fitted especially for him judging by the way the sleeves reached just below his wrists.

The older man had an experienced look about his eyes, as if he could read the room before he had any information about his peers. He had his boxed jaw set, tightening it every now and again when somebody looked at him for too long. His hair, black like the younger man’s, had flecks of grey at its ends, indicating that whichever profession he followed was nearing its retirement process.

The third guest was sat in the corner dressed in a leather jacket and a dark grey hoodie beneath it. Her caramel-brown hair cascaded past her shoulders and sat on the lapels of her jacket. She glared around the room, her face a mixture of hidden fear and outright loathing. Her vision was a little blurry, but enough that she could make out the details of her captor. Maggie Sawyer hated this, more than anything she’d ever hated.

The three guests sat opposite her all wore foil bags over their heads, and she couldn’t tell who they were. At the moment, all she could focus on properly was the man sat at the head of the table.

She reminded him of the Bond villains she’d seen on the telly. He had the typical glint in his eye that suggested some sort of glee in undoing others, and the gelled back hair with the silver highlight running through it. His suit was the usual Wall Street pinstripe that made him look even more massive than his presence already was.

“Ah, you’re awake, Ms. Sawyer.” He sneered, his accent posh and clipped. “Third of six, not bad, although I suppose you’re used to your fair share of sedatives given your line of work. Perhaps not being submitted to them, of course, but you’ve managed quite well.”

Maggie didn’t reply. She regarded the two men on her left and silently made herself aware of the goons flagging the doors and each corner of the room. No way out. She was on the wrong side of the room to dive out the window, and even if she could build the momentum to carry herself through the glass, she didn’t know how far up she was. Second floor she could survive, third maybe.

“We need to wait for our other guests to awaken before we begin, so I suppose we should introduce ourselves while we do so.” The man interlaced his fingers together, shunting his shoulders forward as he grinned at Maggie. She noticed a silver ‘L’ sewed into his breast pocket. “Of course, you already know my name, Ms Sawyer. However, I don’t believe you’ve met Mr Anders and Mr Dockerill.”

The older man looked at Maggie, blinking wearily. Maggie figured he was feeling as woozy as she was. “Special Agent Gideon Anders.” He introduced gruffly.

Maggie frowned. She tried to speak but she found her words struggling to keep up with her mind. “F….BI?” She managed.

He nodded. “Behavioural Analysis Unit.”

The younger man sat on Gideon’s other side didn’t look at Maggie as he spoke. “Spencer. Dockerill.” He muttered and didn’t say anything else.

Maggie acknowledged his name as she registered movement from one of the bagged guests. She could tell it was a man, guessing from the low moans and broad shoulders. L nodded to one of the suited men and the bag was removed from the man’s head.

It revealed a man younger than Maggie had expected. In fact, he barely looked old enough to drink let alone be in a place like this. His face, although drenched with sweat, was youthful and inexperienced. Maggie could guess his age from the letterman jacket around his shoulders.

“What’s goin’ on?” He questioned in his drugged panic, struggling to get out of the chair he was bound to. “Let me go, let me go!”

L nodded again and this time the guard secured a cloth around the boy’s mouth and quietened him. Movement started in the guest beside him and that was quickly revealed to be another young man with a huge burn scar that covered most of the left side of his face. Maggie noticed how the man glared at the head of the table and L’s sneer fell off his face, replaced with a furrowed brow. They didn’t exchange words.

The sixth and final guest’s bag was removed whilst they were still unconscious. Maggie’s vision was still blurry, but she knew that messy red hair before she even saw the face. She’d seen it everyday for the past nine years. The goon who’d removed the bag reached forward and pulled their head up. Maggie’s heart stopped, and her eyes widened as her theory was confirmed.

“Alex.”

**+**

**Eight years ago…**

Maggie Sawyer woke to the sounds of excited shrieks and the smell of freshly-brewed coffee. The sun shone on her back muscles as it gleamed through the window blinds. She could also detect the quiet tones of Stevie on in the kitchen – one of Maggie’s favourites. Alex might’ve been singing along, but Maggie was too drowsy to tell.

She stretched herself out, smiling as she could hear Alex’s singing devolving into a language only babies could understand. It wasn’t often Alex woke up before Maggie but it was a pleasant surprise when she did. Breakfast was usually made and it was always her favourite, vegan pancakes and coffee.

Maggie swung her legs out of bed and got dressed in her usual grey shirt and leather jacket with the heeled boots. As she quickly checked herself in the mirror, Maggie noticed a small bite mark in the sleeve of her jacket. She popped a knowing eyebrow. _Jaime_.

Heading towards the kitchen, Maggie tried to think of how she could keep Jaime from teething on her jacket. _For starters, Mags, maybe you shouldn’t hold your daughter whilst wearing an expensive leather jacket_. Maggie shrugged to herself. _Or perhaps she could just give her one of Gertrude’s dog toys_.

“You need a new jacket.” Alex spoke, making Maggie jump.

“Jesus shit, where the fuck did you come from?” Maggie’s hand clutched her heart dramatically as Alex emerged from the kitchen doorway, holding Jaime in her arms.

The kitchen behind her was a mess of cooking appliances and baby toys. Crayons with their scribbles lay all over the counter with sippy cups holding them down as paper weights. Maggie imagined there was pancake mixture everywhere too and probably half of Jaime’s breakfast with it. She didn’t mind as long as she got her coffee.

“Nice, Mags. Teaching our daughter to have a potty mouth before she’s even started kindergarten.” Alex scolded, although she was smiling. She adjusted Jaime on her hip as the baby girl reached out for her other mother. “She’s got a lot of bite this morning, I’d recommend you take your jacket off.”

Maggie chuckled as she pulled her leather jacket off. “Wow. Two years ago, it used to take a night out and three games of pool before you’d tell me that. Except I don’t remember the aftermath being quite so-“ She eyed the little girl. “Chubby.”

Alex feigned a gasp. “Don’t call her chubby!” She handed Jaime over into Maggie’s welcoming arms. “She’ll get it enough when she’s older.”

Maggie felt a flash of guilt for a few seconds. “Yeah. Among _other_ things.” She muttered under her breath as she nuzzled Jaime’s head in greeting.

Alex stiffened for a moment, understanding exactly what Maggie meant as they both subconsciously glanced at the family photo that sat on the mantelpiece behind the table. It was a simple one, just a photo Kara had taken when they’d taken Jaime out to the park for the first time. Alex shook her head, trying not to think about the numerous reasons Jaime could get bullied as she got older. It was best not to think about them.

She refreshed herself. “Are you going to be home late tonight?”

“Hopefully not.” Maggie checked her phone, and sighed at the email from Hopper. “We’ve got a new case today though, so we’ll have to see how that pans out.”

Alex started to clear up the kitchen as Maggie quietly played with their daughter. “Oh yeah? What is it?”

“Homicide according to Hopper. Nine-year-old boy, apparently.” Maggie replied, shaking her head unhappily.

Alex noticed how Maggie held Jaime just a little tighter, and understood. The world felt ten times more dangerous since Jaime had come into the world and hearing the stories of children going missing or being taken away from their parents felt like a very real threat to their household. With a family like theirs, Alex and Maggie made sure to keep Jaime safe and accounted for at all times.

Alex sighed. “You’d better get going then, preliminary won’t wait forever. You don’t want to be late.”

“Yeah, do you want me to take Gertrude?” Maggie asked, eyeing the sleeping German Shepherd by the front door.

“No, she can stay with us today. We’ll go to the park.”

Maggie feigned an excited gasp, jiggling Jaime in her grip slightly. “You hear that, little duck? You get to go to the park with Momma!”

Jaime squealed excitedly, waving her little arms around happily. She couldn’t talk yet, but the infant could recognise a few words. She – like Gertrude – knew the park was the best thing ever. That meant ice cream and ducks.

Maggie grinned, placing a kiss on her daughter’s head. “Love you, little duck.” She murmured into the girl’s curly brown hair and passed her back to Alex. “You going to be alright, today?”

Alex nodded, placing a reassuring kiss on her wife’s lips. “You’re so fussy.” She teased.

“I know, I know.” Maggie nodded, taking her coffee from the kitchen counter. “I’ll call you on my lunch break, eh? If I’m back on time, maybe we can go out for dinner.”

“That sounds nice. I’ll keep Kara on standby.” Alex replied, gesturing to Jaime, who was looking a little confused as to why they weren’t at the park. Alex noticed this, and gave a weary smile. “She’s going to start crying the moment you leave, you know that?”

Maggie placed another kiss on Alex’s lips, and then Jaime’s head. “That’s why I hate to leave you.” She lingered for a moment, then kissed her family again for good measure. “Okay, okay, I’m going. Love you.”

“We love you too.” Alex assured, taking hold of Jaime’s hand and waving it gently. “Say goodbye to Mom, Jem, say goodbye.”

Jaime squirmed unhappily as Maggie opened the door, realising she wasn’t going with her. Her mother left their home mouthing silent apologies to Alex and as the door clicked shut, Maggie heard the wailing begin. She tried to muffle a laugh, imagining the sigh that had just escaped Alex’s body.

There was a bang at the door, and Alex’s muffled voice yelled through it.

“I can hear you laughing, Maggie Sawyer, now go to work!”

**+**

Maggie drove straight to the crime scene, taking a couple back routes she knew to avoid the Tuesday morning traffic. It brought her to a faded, old club with a peeling sign above its door. Its windows were blacked out and boarded up: they hadn’t been used in years. The door, which was a plank of wood, covered the door frame with graffiti sprayed all over the front of it. The club was called ‘Nightshade’ in what was once a purple font.

It was surrounded by police cars, officers and reporters alike. With Kara taking the role of lead reporter at Catco, Maggie wasn’t surprised to see the blonde stood beside the blue and white tape. Hopper, her usual partner, was hunched a few metres beyond it next to a dumpster and a white sheet. He didn’t see her through the hum of white suits, but Kara was quick to greet her sister-in-law.

“Maggie!” She greeted, rushing towards the detective, but Maggie was ready for her.

The brunette held up a dismissive hand, brushing past. “I’m not answering any questions until I’ve gotten on the scene, Kara.” She told her.

“I know that.” Kara replied. “But can I get an exclusive when you’re done?”

Maggie sighed, stopping just before the tape as she flashed her badge at the security officer. “Tell you what,” She said, ducking beneath the tape. “If you can babysit Jaime and Gertrude tonight, you can have the exclusive as soon as I’ve finished up here and had time to get everything on a board.”

“Of course.” Kara replied immediately. “Thanks, Maggie.”

Maggie tilted her head, frowning slightly. “This makes a change from you literally dropping onto my crime scene.” She observed in a low voice, conscious of the other people around them, “Usually, you’re on this side of the tape before I am.”

Kara shifted from foot to foot sheepishly. “Yeah, I know. Well, I’m lead reporter now and I don’t think I should just use Supergirl when I can’t get the information I need right away. Time to do some proper investigating.”

“That’s good to hear. I’ll call you when I’ve got something more to work with.”

Kara nodded again and thanked her. Finally, she gestured to the crowd beside them. “However, I will use Supergirl to get rid of them for you.”

Maggie smiled. “Thanks.”

She turned away, letting the blonde slip away to change into her caped self. Hopper had noticed her now, and was waiting patiently. Detective Jerome Hopper was a good friend of Maggie’s and more than a colleague to her. She’d remembered him during her training at the academy and after a corruption case a few years back, job openings had made themselves available and Maggie had recommended him. They’d been working as partners for close to three years now.

Maggie quickened her step towards him.

“Sorry, I’m late.” She apologised quickly, her eyes beginning to scan around the crime scene.

“S’alright.”

It was messy, a chaotic scene of garbage and broken glass. The white sheet covered a small mass which Maggie knew to be the body. She inhaled, her eyes fixating on it. Hopper noticed, and read off the notepad in his hand.

“Caucasian male, about nine or ten-years of age, uh, no ID yet…”

“So, no next of kin to alert.” Maggie responded. “First responder?”

“Guy who owns the bar across the street, they use these dumpsters when they’re full up. Kid was underneath that one – but didn’t move the body.”

Maggie nodded, contemplating. She glanced at the white sheet again. “Cause of death?”

“Hm, forensics need to do further testing but white suits reckon he was stabbed and then kicked to death, or vice versa. We’ve got a glass shard all bagged up.”

“Jesus Christ.” Maggie let out a low whistle. She shifted uncomfortably for a moment and then nodded at the sheet. “Raise it. Let’s have a look.”

Hopper made a gesture to one of the forensic team and the sheet was raised. Maggie grimaced at the sight that awaited her. Curled up in a foetal position and covered in bruises was a boy that was definitely no older than ten. His face was bloated, turned blue from all the bruises that covered both eyes and his lips. His shirt could’ve been any colour, but Maggie couldn’t tell as it was soaked in blood and clung to his skin. After a moment, Hopper gestured again.

“Rough deal.” He commented. “Never thought I’d see something like this happen to a kid.”

Maggie nodded her agreement. “Did he have any possessions? Anything found around here?”

“Nothing.”

“Time of death at all?”

“White suits reckon sometime last night.”

Maggie frowned. “That’s strange. What would a kid his age be doing out on the streets at night?”

“Maybe he was homeless, you know, a runaway or something. Those kids go where they please.” Hopper pointed out. “Plus, there’s needles all around here. Maybe he just ran in rogue with some other kids and ended up on the wrong end of someone’s boot.”

Maggie’s eyes scanned the scene again, thinking of her next decision. Hopper’s theory was good, plausible, but she hadn’t heard of ten-year-olds running with gangs in National City.

“Right, get him bagged up and we’ll see if there’s any missing reports of children under eleven. Make sure all the evidence is bagged properly and I’ll see you at the station so we can go over these details. Hopefully we’ll make a positive ID by lunch.”

Hopper nodded. “Got it. Where are you going?” He asked as Maggie began to walk away.

She looked over her shoulder. “I’m gonna talk to the first responder. Maybe he heard or saw something at the time of death.”

**+**

They were in deep shit and Maggie knew it. L hadn’t moved from his seat, and Alex hadn’t regained consciousness. Instead, he’d just been waiting patiently, his eyes staring through his victims. The younger boy was still writhing around in his chair as his cries were muffled by the gag that had been shoved into his mouth.

“Will you shut up?” Anders growled at him, annoyed by the constant squeaks the chair made against the wooden floor.

The schoolboy stopped squirming, but the panic was very much present in his eyes. He was glancing between Spencer and the man next to him with a fear that Maggie had rarely seen before. L didn’t even look at him.

Maggie leaned forward with her shoulders. “What are you going to do with us?” She knew it was a cliché question, but with Alex in danger, she had to know.

“All in good time, Captain Sawyer.” L replied, still staring at the door opposite him calmly.

“I don’t know you.” She spat in reply.

L ignored her, only returning a small smirk in acknowledgement. Maggie scowled and tried to kick Alex from under the table. She was still out of it, even with the toe of Maggie’s boot nudging her ankle.

“Alex.” She hissed. “Alex, _wake up_.”

Alex didn’t respond, so Maggie kicked her again, this time landing a stronger kick to her wife’s ankle.

“Alex, this isn’t the time to play dead.”

Spencer frowned. “You know her?” He questioned, his voice betraying his Metropolis accent.

“She’s my wife.” Maggie declared, kicking Alex again but garnering no response. She turned to L. “Why is she still out?”

L raised an eyebrow. “That’s a good question. Being a DEO agent, I imagined she was used to being sedated so I gave her something a little stronger. Hm, perhaps I was wrong.” He turned to one of the goons. “Wake her up.”

One of the suited men moved forward and pulled Alex’s face up again. He held underneath her chin, massaging her cheeks firmly with his thumbs and fingers. It took a few moments, but finally Alex stirred with a groan.

“Alex,” Maggie tried to keep her voice reassuring. “Alex, it’s me. Alex, it’s Maggie. You need to wake up, _now_.”

Alex frowned, her voice slow and groggy. “Mmm…Ma…_Maggie_?”

Maggie sat up straighter, relieved to hear her wife’s voice. “That’s right, come on wake up.”

The goon continued to massage Alex’s cheeks until she scrunched her face up, pulling away from his hands. She squinted around curiously, trying to pick out her surroundings.

“Welcome to the party, Agent Danvers.” L greeted loudly, opening his arms in welcoming. “So nice of you to join us.”

“Maggie?”

Maggie leaned forward a little again. Every time she did it, the rope strained against her wrists and cut into them, but she ignored it. “I’m right here.”

L tutted. “Touching, but not what we’re here for.” He cleared his throat, and finally stood. “No, unfortunately, the subject we’re here for is much more…intimate than that.”

Anders raised his head. “The fuck does that mean?”

L chuckled at the FBI agent. He stood and began striding around his captives like a cat closing in on its prey.

“I admire that spirit, Agent Anders, but that’ll wear out soon enough so I recommend that you save it. You’ll find out soon enough.” L dismissed, continuing to move around the table. “But you won’t like it.”

He circled the table twice, then finally nodded to the two goons that flagged the door. They disappeared for a moment, then returned with a large set up of screens and wires that trailed behind them. The captives remained silent as the two set up the screens at the end of the table. Alex and Maggie exchanged worried, yet knowing glances.

Both of them had experience with being kidnapped, especially in the early years. Alex’s watery experience with Rick and Maggie’s fiery one with Scorcher had made both women quite the protectors, especially with Jaime given both their working ranks. Alex, now the director of the DEO, and Maggie, now the captain of the NCPD, had trained Jaime in what to do if she were ever in trouble.

As the screens were set up, both of them noticed how fearful the other was. If they were both here, then where was Jaime?

Maggie tried to think back to that morning, but everything was fuzzy. She didn’t even know what day it was now. How long had she been strapped to this chair?

The screens flickered into life, distracting Maggie from her thoughts. There were twelve in total, two for each guest. It was from a security camera, each one in a different room. Most of them were bedrooms._ Probably motels_, Maggie guessed from the blandness of the rooms.

What was in one of the rooms was what caught Maggie’s attention. Each of them had a pair of L’s suited men in them, accompanied by one or two people that looked more like civilians than goons.

“Ladies, and gentlemen…” L began, opening his arms again as he reached his original seat. He sneered at the screens like they were his crowning trophy. “Welcome – “

Alex cut him off as she suddenly spoke with widened eyes and an urgent voice. “Maggie!”

Alex didn’t look at her wife, her eyes glued to the screens, so Maggie followed her gaze. Her eyes caught the middle screen. It was one of the motel rooms with the two suited men sat beside the bed. On the bed itself was a small figure sat up against the headboard.

Maggie knew. She recognised the oversized NCPD hoodie, the long brown hair and the olive complexion. Maggie’s heart thudded against her chest, booming like a drum in her ears, as her worst nightmare became true.

_Jaime._

She could hear L’s booming laugh in her ears, and his sneer made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up.

“Ladies and gentleman, welcome to the worst experience of your life.”

_L had Jaime._


	2. Kid of Interest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maggie goes further with a new case, and things get worse for their current situation.

**Chapter 2**

Maggie had led a good, happy life. She’d never intentionally hurt anyone, friend or foe, and always greeted people in the street with a smile. Up until that point. At that moment in her life, she wanted to launch herself across the table and rip L’s throat out with her bare teeth.

She pulled so hard against the restraints it felt like the rope would cut her hands off. _That wouldn’t be too bad_, Maggie thought to herself, _she didn’t need hands to bite him. _She yanked against them again, blowing her hair out of her face in frustration.

“You let our daughter go, you motherfucking son of a-“

L laughed, cutting her off. “Language, Detective Sawyer. All in good time, all in good time – she’ll be returned to you.”

“Safe and well.” Alex added aggressively, pulling against her own restraints.

Judging by the furious expression on her face, Alex was just as enraged as Maggie was but it didn’t disguise the fear it instilled in the both of them. Jaime was their whole life: always had been and always would be. Jaime could be thirty years old, a blackbelt in karate and a secret agent but Maggie and Alex would still be worried for her safety.

Maggie looked up at the screen again. The two goons weren’t moving and they weren’t talking to Jaime, but the girl still seemed terrified. She was curled up with her knees to her chest and her back pressed against the headboard. Tucked into her arms was her trusty Officer Pickles, a stuffed otter that had been her constant companion since she was two. She was still wearing the same clothes she’d gone to school in that morning.

The other guests had hostages on their screen each. In two other motel rooms, there was a middle-aged woman with a boy around senior age and another middle-aged woman in a blue shirt. On another screen, there was a dark elderly woman in a wheelchair – but not a motel room. The room she was in looked like an office of some sort, with a desk; a chair and a small sofa at the side. The final hostage was a scruffy man who, judging by his raggedy clothes, was homeless. He too was sat in an office.

There was a final pair of screens, and Maggie’s heart dropped again. _There were two screens for each guest. _Jaime was only on two of the screens, not four. They hadn’t noticed the other screens in their fear for Jaime. On the final two screens, again in a hotel room, was someone deathly familiar to Maggie. It was a woman, almost elderly, with long dark hair that was grey at the roots. She had olive skin, like Maggie’s, and she was sat by the headboard like Jaime was.

Maggie cast her eyes downwards, anger filling her stomach. They had her aunt too.

The presence of the hostages were alarming the other guests too. Anders was pulling against his chair as aggressively as Maggie and Alex. Maggie figured his bait was the woman and the boy: they’d be the right age. Spencer, the dark man with the icy eyes, gulped – his eyes were fixed on the woman in the wheelchair. The letterman jacket boy was staring at the woman in the blue shirt who Maggie figured to be his mother or possibly his aunt.

The only guest who didn’t seem fazed by the screens was the man with the burned face. Instead, his eyes remained on L with a _smirk_ on his face. Because the burn covered one side of his mouth, when he smiled the burned skin would pull his eye down so it almost popped out. Maggie thought it made him look like a cartoon, and a terrifying one at that.

Anders was the first to speak. “Who the fuck are you? What do you want with us?” He snarled. “How did we get here?”

L smiled a smile that indicated no warmth at the FBI agent. “Well now, Special Agent Anders, you’re a clever man. You are as well, Detective Sawyer, and you, Agent Danvers. Perhaps you can figure it out.” He sneered, threading his fingers together as he leaned forward menacingly. “And perhaps why, what’s about to happen to you, is going to happen.”

**+**

The bar across the street from Nightshade wasn’t unfamiliar to Maggie. Back in the days before she knew Alex but had moved to National City, she’d frequented the little karaoke bar a couple of times in her attempts to meet someone post-Emily and pre-Alex. She’d even moonlighted as a bartender there a couple of nights if she didn’t have a shift down at the precinct.

Maggie pushed open the black door and entered into the dark bar. It was open already; a couple of old regulars sat at the bar sipping a beer. The bartender, a slim girl around her mid-twenties, was cleaning glasses from the night before when she noticed Maggie walk in.

“Hi, Maggie. Long time, no see. How’s you?” She smiled, recognising the detective. She set down the glass and reached across the bar, shaking Maggie’s hand. “Been ages since you were in here.”

Maggie chuckled. “Hi, Tamsin. Yeah, it’s been a while. Got a girl now, and a little one.” She looked around the bar, but didn’t see the person she was looking for. “Is John around here?”

“In the back. Door’s open so just go on through.” Tamsin nodded, and went back to her glasses. “Oh, and come back some time will you? We could do with your rendition of The Chain.”

Maggie grinned as she crossed the bar to the staff door beside the karaoke stage. “Hm, maybe.”

She reached the door, knocked on it, and then headed in. The little office hadn’t changed. It was still about the size of a bathroom stall, and was dotted around with tiny plants. One of Maggie’s bonsai trees still sat on the tiny window sill, the blue ‘M’ on its pot fading now. At the desk, a short man with round, thick glasses rose his head at the sound of the door shutting.

On seeing Maggie, he grinned, standing up, and smoothed back his thinning hair. “Maggie! Darn, it’s been a minute.” He greeted, his southern accent still going strong. “How are you?”

Maggie hugged him in greeting. “I’m good, John, I’m good. How about you? How’s business?”

John ran his hand through his hair again with a long sigh. That seemed to be the reason it was thinning. “Tell you what, Mags, it’s not great. All these new ones opening up downtown – you know how it goes.”

“Yeah.” Maggie rubbed the back of her neck. “Listen, I won’t beat around the bush, John. I need to talk to you about-“

“About the dead boy under the dumpster, yeah I guessed as much.”

As John shifted from foot to foot uncomfortably and began to move around the room, Maggie noticed and mirrored him. She rarely saw her former boss be uncomfortable, but she knew police made her nervous. She wanted him to see her as Maggie, not as a cop.

“He was wedged under there proper good, like somebody had tried to squish him under there or somethin’. I didn’t touch him or nothing – I just called your guys after I put the trash out.” John continued as he passed Maggie’s bonsai, then backtracked and adjusted it. “I put the trash in the dumpsters a street over, figured I didn’t wanna contaminate the evidence or anythin’.”

Maggie nodded. “Right, good. You use Nightshade’s dumpsters when yours are filled up?”

“Yeah, I was friends with the owner before it closed.”

“Why’d it close?”

John ran his hand through his hair again. “Those new bars I was telling you about put him out.” He told her.

Maggie nodded again in understanding. “Right. If I remember correctly, John, you used to put the bins out _at night_ before you closed up, _not_ the morning after.”

He froze, looking away from Maggie but she could see the guilty expression on his face. She didn’t press, at least not too hard, perfectly happy to wait.

Many of her contacts on the streets were a shy bunch, something she was good at blending in with. Years of trying not to let it slip that she was gay had made her almost an expert at it. A lot of contacts were similar to her, although not quite in that sense. A good few of them were aliens trying their best to pass as humans and could often take a good amount of coaxing before they spoke to her.

“You said business is low, John. Being involved in a murder investigation won’t help it a cent.” She asked softly. “If you help me, you won’t be in trouble.”

John glanced up at that, as if his ears had perked. “I won’t?”

“I hope not.” Maggie replied.

He chuckled emptily, rubbing the back of his neck as he did. “Cops.” He muttered, then sighed out again. “Look, I didn’t see anythin’. That’s the truth.”

Maggie could still see through him, noticing his posture. His shoulders were hunched, his eyes were looking just next to hers and he was just slightly biting his lip.

“John.” She pressed, taking a step towards him. “A boy is dead, and it wasn’t an accident. What you saw will help me find the son of a bitch that did it.”

“I didn’t see anything!” John shouted. It was almost tearful, emotional as he stressed his point. “I heard some shoutin’ and some bins russlin’ around but that was it, okay? Nothin’ about nobody getting killed!”

Maggie took another step forward. “What did you hear?”

John ran a hand through his hair again. “Just some boys shouting, I don’t know. I couldn’t make out what they were sayin’ but it didn’t sound good so I stayed in.”

She nodded, finally satisfied with his answer. “Thank you, John. That helps, more than you think.”

He didn’t reply, but gave her a look of disdain that she’d seen a million times before. She didn’t take it personally. John had never liked cops although she’d been his only exception.

They nodded their goodbyes with a promise that Maggie would return soon enough with Fleetwood Mac renditions aplenty. On her way out, Maggie felt a buzzing in her back pocket and pulled her phone out to see who was calling.

** _ALEX _ **

Maggie smiled and put the phone to her ear:

“Alex, I’ve only been at work an hour, I don’t know if I’ll be late yet-“

_“I know, I know.”_ Alex chortled down the line. Maggie could hear Jaime giggling in the background. _“I just want to know how your day is going, I’ve only just got Jaime to stop crying because you’ve left.”_

Maggie grinned. “Well, then you’d both better go to the p-“

_“Maggie Sawyer-Danvers, don’t you dare the P-A-R-K word. You’ll set Gertrude off as well.” _Alex feigned a threat, but Maggie could hear the amused tone in her voice. _“Are you at the crime scene?”_

“Just finished interviewing the first responder – about to head back to the station and wait for post-mortem. Hopper reckons he’s a runaway so I’m going to look through missing reports.”

_“That sounds promising. Do you think you’ll get a positive ID by the end of the day?”_

“Hard to say.” Maggie replied, reaching her car. “Depending if the kid is a runaway or not, we may get one by lunchtime. Any concerned parent would be in the station by morning if their kid had gone missing in the night, so we’ll see what happens.”

_“Well, I can always help out – I can just call J’onn and-“_

“Alex, I appreciate the sentiment but you are still on maternity leave. Your job right now is to rest. No work, you hear me?”

There was a long sigh, and Maggie felt a flash of sympathy. She couldn’t blame Alex for wanting to help. If she was on six months of maternity leave, she’d be itching to work as well, but they both knew it was for her own good.

“Tell you what, I managed to get Kara to babysit tonight and a table at one of the finest karaoke bars in all of National City. Sound fun?”

There was another long pause, then another sigh. _“Yeah. That sounds good. Got a rough idea of when you’ll be home?”_

“I’ll let you know.”

_“Alright, I’d better go.”_

“Me too. Alex?”

_“Hm?”_

Maggie scuffed her boot on the footwell of the car, a shy blush rising to her cheeks. _“I love you.”_

She knew it was silly. They’d been married for nearly three years and here she was, still shy to tell her wife that she loved her.

“I love you too, Mags.” Alex replied honestly. “So does Jaime, she sends her…_very loud_ regards.”

Maggie chuckled as she heard her daughter’s excited squealing down the phone. She raised the phone to her mouth.

“I love you too, little duck!” She called playfully, hearing another happy squeak in response. “Okay, Alex, I’ve got to go. Love you.”

“Love you too. Stay safe.”

**+**

Maggie didn’t hear a good portion of whatever taunt L gave: her attention was focused too much on Jaime. She couldn’t stop staring at the little girl curled up at the head of the bed.

Maggie never really noticed how small she really was.

Jaime was going to be taller than Maggie, the whole family knew that. At almost nine years old, she was already at Maggie’s shoulder, and on the fast track to be as tall as Alex, someday. Still, she was tiny.

Despite her height, Jaime was almost the spit-image of Maggie. She had the dimples, the little fangs and the Sawyer olive complexion. The only characteristic that betrayed the fact she was also Alex’s was her eyes. Big, hazel brown eyes that widened when she smiled – just like Alex.

Maggie choked back a whimper of fear for her daughter. _How could anyone hurt her?_

A sudden smack to the back of her head brought Maggie back into the room. The goon that had hit her stepped back into the shadows as Maggie suddenly looked around. The other guests were all looking at her with fearful expressions.

L sighed, ticked off that Maggie hadn’t been listening. He threaded his fingers as he rolled his eyes, then spoke again:

“_As I was saying_, each of you are in this room for a reason – as are your associates on the screens up there. Each of you will also be competing to save yourselves and your collateral – regardless of the reason. As we all know, life doesn’t work out the way we want it to.”

Maggie raised an eyebrow, noticing how he emphasised on that. Her detective brain never stopped working, something she was glad of. This was something personal, something close to him_. ‘Life doesn’t work out the way we want it to.’_

Her eyes trailed up to her aunt again. Life hadn’t worked out the way Gabriella had wanted it to, that was for sure. At twenty-four she’d suddenly been lumped with this tiny teenager that couldn’t smile, and wouldn’t speak to anyone.

Still, despite the lack of talking, Gabriella had looked after Maggie as if she were her own, practically becoming a second mother to the Sawyer girl. Maggie almost lost herself in her thoughts again when L’s voice drifted back into her mind:

“-and, as we progress through this little game, we’ll find out just why each of you are here.”

The captives were silent for a moment as L smirked at each of them. The boy, still shaking in his restraints, frighteningly spilled in stammers.

“I don’t…I don’t understand. Why are we here?”

Maggie expected L to be angry at him, like he had been with her – but instead the man just exhaled and rolled his eyes. She noted that: he had more patience with the kid. _Maybe he had kids of his own_, she thought.

L leaned back in his chair, ignoring the creak of the wood. “Well, we’re a rather diverse group of people, aren’t we? I doubt you’ve met any of the other participants on this table, have you?”

There was a pause as the boy gulped. He shook his head. “No.”

“You’d never think you’ve all crossed paths with at least one person at this table, would you? So, over the course of the evening, we will find out just how we all know each other. Tell me, anyone, have you ever read An Inspector Calls?”

Nobody answered. Maggie had, and so had Alex. In fact, probably everyone at the table had read it – it was on school curriculum. The silence had gone on too long; nobody could answer his question now. L groaned, threading his hands over the table again.

“You’re a sleepy bunch, aren’t you? I’m hoping it’s the sedatives that are slowing your brains down, because otherwise, it’s going to be a very long evening and nobody wants that now, do they? So, I will ask again –_ has anybody read An Inspector Calls_?”

“I have.” Anders snapped in reply. “I’ve read the stupid book.”

L gritted a smile. He was visibly offended by the comment, but pushed through it. Maggie noted that too, figuring he was maybe a writer or a publisher of some kind.

“So,” L continued. “You’ll understand what I mean by contribution by association, won’t you?”

“Something happened and it’s got something to do with all of us.” Anders replied, then gestured to the screens. “They’re only there so we’ll do as you say.”

L clapped his hands together, laughing loudly. “I’ll say this, Agent Anders. You may be retired, but you’ve still got it.”

Anders tightened his jaw. “I didn’t retire because I stopped being smart.” He muttered.

“No, you didn’t. We’ll find out exactly why you retired, won’t we?”

Anders didn’t reply, only fixing L with a dark glare. Maggie took this opportunity to glance to Alex. She knew the look she received in response. Alex wasn’t afraid, in fact the opposite. Flames seemed to dance in her eyes, tightening her lips as she watched L talk. She was angry, angrier than Maggie and they both knew it. Alex was profiling L, just like she was. Picking up on tiny details, figuring them out and putting them into place.

The two women were going to survive this. Not for each other, but for Jaime and Gabriella.

**+**

Maggie was on her third coffee by the time she got back to the precinct, but still didn’t feel anymore awake than when she’d left home. She should stop staying up so late, she knows this, but she didn’t get to see enough of Jaime as it was and so whenever the little girl cried at night: Maggie was happy to oblige.

Hopper, again, was waiting for her as she strolled in, making a beeline for her desk. Tucked into the crook of his elbow was a thick, beige folder with a couple of multicoloured sheets of paper sticking out.

Maggie pointed to it with her coffee. “That the missing kids file?”

Hopper slapped the file down on Maggie’s desk as she sat. “That’s within this past month. Figured a kid that young wouldn’t survive very long by himself.”

She took the folder, noticing it wasn’t too heavy, then laid it down again. “Maybe he wasn’t alone.” She tilted her head. “Have we got forensic photos from the crime scene?”

“Just coming up from the basement, they’ll be here in ten.”

“Make it five. It’ll make going through these missing reports a lot quicker.”

Hopper nodded his agreement. “Right.”

“Oh, and see if there was any security footage on that street. This might be an easy one and we’ll just catch them on camera.”

Maggie opened her mouth to speak further but was cut off by a hushed silence from the rest of the officers in the bullpen. She looked up from the folder. Towering like a mountain above her desk, dressed in formal police uniform was Captain Raymond Jones.

Jones was one the closest people in Maggie’s life, he was almost as much as a father to her as J’onn was. He’d been there for her ever since she’d arrived in National City. The older man smiled down at his best detective.

“Got a minute, Sawyer?” He indicated to his office behind him.

Maggie nodded. “Sure thing.”

As she stood, Hopper crossed behind her and picked up the folder, muttering that he’d get her requested work done. The rest of the bullpen was still stood to attention but eased when their Captain nodded and turned his back on them, their usual chatter resuming as the two headed into his office.

“Want me to shut the door, sir?” Maggie asked as she followed through the door, pausing just past the threshold.

Jones took his seat, and nodded. “Please do. Take a seat, Sawyer.” He gestured to the seat opposite his desk.

Maggie’s smile faltered slightly as she heard the click of the door. Shutting the Captain’s door in a meeting was rarely a good sign – this either meant she was in for a lecture, or she was about to leave this office without a job. Her eyes grazed to the window in Jones’ office, covered by blinds. Just through them she spotted the SWAT squad passing, chatting amongst themselves and removing their helmets.

Maggie took a seat. “How was the operation, sir? Operation Bandi.” She asked, referring to the SWAT squad.

Jones raised an eyebrow, a half-smile forming across his face. “I don’t think you’re supposed to know about that, Sawyer.”

“You know me, sir. _Naturally curious_, as you put it.”

Jones chuckled, shaking his head. “Yes, about five years ago. Now you’re a borderline busybody.” He replied honestly. “The operation went fine, thank you.”

Maggie grinned cheekily. “What can I help you with, sir?” She finally asked, settling herself down in the chair.

Jones sighed, gathering himself together. “I want to talk to you about a potential promotion, Sawyer. You’ve been working here, what, five years now?”

Maggie swallowed, trying to mask her surprise. “Mhm.” She confirmed.

“I’ve been working here for _twenty_-five.” Jones replied, then sighed again. “I’ll be honest with you, Sawyer. I’m hanging up my hat and the board want me to recommend a replacement before I do. You’ve got that new case right?”

“Yes, the dead kid found under the dumpster.”

“Solve that within a month, and the precinct is yours.”

Maggie let out a surprised gasp, leaning back in her chair slightly. Jones chuckled at the detective’s reaction.

“This has got to be the first time I’ve seen you speechless, Sawyer.” He hummed. “Or the first since your wedding.”

The detective rolled her eyes and sat forward a little more. “Why are you telling me this, sir?” She pressed curiously. “There’s plenty of detectives with more experience than me in that bullpen. Hopper has solved bigger cases than I have.”

“Hm, perhaps. Personally, I don’t believe Hopper has the level-headedness that you do. Too trigger happy, you know what I mean?” Jones flicked the nib of one of the pens on his desk, focusing on the ink that leaked onto his thumb. “Too many of his prime suspects come into my precinct and seem to go straight into the mortuary downstairs.”

Maggie frowned: she hadn’t heard that about Hopper before. From her experience, Hopper could barely say boo to a goose, let alone shoot somebody. She cleared the grimace quickly and sat back again. “Right, I see.” She pondered for a moment. “Well, thank you, sir. For letting me know, that is.”

Jones waved a dismissive hand. “It’s only a recommendation, the job isn’t yours yet. Get that case solved, alright?”

Maggie stood, nodding in understanding. “Got it, will do.” She indicated her exit and returned to the bullpen promptly.

Hopper had disappeared, assumingly to do her list of chores she’d assigned. So, instead, she gave the waiting room a quick sweep. No family members were reporting a lost boy so she returned to her desk.

With nothing else to do until the post mortem was done and forensics was finished, Maggie just heaved a sigh and picked her phone up again. The caller answered before the first ring had even finished. Alex’s voice shone through the line again.

_“From now on, Maggie Sawyer, the word ‘P-A-R-K’ is banned in this house from the hours of six to eleven in the morning. It’s going to be Jaime’s first word at this point.”_

Maggie only laughed. Her daughter had her priorities set straight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all! Sorry this was so late! Been catching up with school and getting through block, you know how it is.


End file.
